


Fee Fi Fo Fum

by Evilchuckle



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, OC, Religion, dealing with aftermath of mosque firebombing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 16:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evilchuckle/pseuds/Evilchuckle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pack's cover story get tested while Stiles starts on a road to recovery he never knew he needed to take. A follow up to 'A Living Faith of the Heart'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fee Fi Fo Fum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skymirage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skymirage/gifts).



> Warning for non graphic description of the aftermath of burning. 
> 
> Skymirage's recent review has inspired me to write this, it is unbetaed. Sequels are rarely good but I wanted to give Stiles, his dad and Scott some kind of reconciliation.

John Michaelmas decided not to join the group due to their pro-choice message, Sarah Laurence hadn’t wanted to be in a youth group that was pro-life. Jose Garcia hadn’t liked that they viewed homosexuality as a sin, meanwhile June Major couldn’t stand the idea that the group supported marriage equality.

Luckily none of the people who wanted to join their ‘Christian youth group’ talked to each other. When each one approached them the pack found a way to drive them off. 

-

Boyd sighed as he entered his room to see Natalie sitting there. His mother had let her in after she had given her her mother’s egusi soup recipe. Ever since Natalie’s family had emigrated from Nigeria ten years ago Mary Boyd had lost the soup making contest in the Beacon County Fair. Having that recipe was a coup and well worth the risk of her son having a girl in his bedroom. 

“Hey Vernon.” She smiled at him, she had been bothering him for weeks about her joining the youth group. When they had tried the tactic of supporting the opposite of what she believed she had just grinned and told him ‘having different opinions makes life interesting. We need to be exposed to different ideas otherwise we never grow.’ For a fourteen year old she was annoyingly wise. 

“Can you at least let me come to a meeting, so the others can get to know me and see if I fit in the group.”

Boyd sighed, Natalie was a good kid, he didn’t want to hurt her but as they weren’t really a Christian youth group she couldn’t really join, and as the whole thing had been his idea then he should be the one to fix it. “Why is this so important to you?”

“I want some where I don’t have to be ashamed of my faith but where I don’t have my mother watching me, making sure I conform to her views. I love my mother but I need to start learning how to be my own person.”

Boyd looked at her, and saw how important this was, “I’ll talk to Derek.” 

-

His mother’s hair was burning, she was covering him, screaming and choking on the smoke and all he could think about was that beautiful hair burning. The fire consumed her it was coming for him but she saved him. His father held her charred form cursing him telling him it should have been him. 

Stiles jerked awake, he looked down at his arms, his scars were visible but not as bad as his mother’s had been. Scars don’t grow with children so he had had to have skin grafts which meant he had light scarring on his legs too. He didn’t seem them as ugly he saw them as something to remind him that his mother loved him and wanted him to live.

Deciding he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep he got out some moisturising cream. His father used to do this for him, gently rubbing the cream into his scars while his mother read to him from the Qur’an. Slowly he began to recite to himself “b-ismi-llāhi r-raḥmāni r-raḥīmi”. 

His scars constantly hurt, the hole his mother left could never be filled. The anguish he saw in his father's face burned away at him. Praying to God quietly like this calmed him down, there may be pain and evil in the world, but his God is gracious and merciful. It was sometimes the only comfort he had in his life.

-

Derek pushed his cart towards the flower pots. He already had the strawberry plants now he just needed something for them to grow in. Having a steady pack life meant he was now in a position to start grieving and prodding at the open wound which was his family. His father used to grow strawberries and make jam from them, selling it at the   
county fair. It was how he knew Boyd but he doubted the boy remembered. Running around together while their parents bonded over food and bad judging.

He wanted to bring back May days of the house smelling of sugar and strawberries, of everyone getting together picking them and trying to sneakily eat some. He knew it wouldn’t be the same but it was something he didn’t want to give up completely. 

Just in front of the plant pots stood the sheriff, who turn and nodded at Derek. “My fig tree sapling needs replanting; it’s growing but still too young to be put in the ground. I’m trying to bring a bit of Portugal back to our home, remind Stiles of his roots.” He glared at Derek, “remind him it’s okay to be who he is that he doesn’t have to hide or assimilate.”  
Derek wasn’t sure what he was going to say but the sheriff interrupted him, “I know he wants to fit in with his friends and that’s he’s scared but I won’t let him hide any more.”

“If this is about his sexuality you have to know our group doesn’t have a problem with it. I thought you would know better than to assume that all Christians believe the same thing. That a loud minority screaming at the world do not represent the rest.” 

The sheriff chuckled at Derek, “it’s all very good to say that about your own religion but what about others? Are you as fair to them?” With that he picked up a large pot and walked off leaving Derek alone with the pots. 

-

When the pack saw him planting strawberries they couldn’t help but want to go all out. Erica bought beans, Lydia pumpkins, Jackson sunflowers. There was an awkward moment when they realised not everything could be planted just yet but on the whole they had fun messing around gardening. 

Boyd brought up the issue of Natalie. It was pointed out that having no-one new join the group would be suspicious. She didn’t have to join the pack all the time. That maybe having a time where they could sit down and discuss their beliefs might be healthy. 

With the introduction of werewolves in their lives everyone had to question how they saw the world. Natalie was right having a safe non-judgemental place to question your spirituality would be good. 

They decided that she could come on a Friday, as Stiles who was against the whole thing never came out on Fridays. They made it clear to her that the group didn’t worship together as it was meant to be cross-denominational and it wasn’t worth the hassle, of which creed, which lord’s prayer, who had the right to hand out communion, and what the alter should look like.

-

Friday nights with Natalie soon became a thing. She was smart and bright, young and hopeful. They didn’t talk god all the time but enough that everyone was happy. She got a picture of a black Jesus and introduced them to the works of James Cone. 

It wasn’t perfect, Derek was uncomfortable with a non-pack human being around so often. Jackson didn’t like the idea of a kid hanging around with them, though Derek was highly amused at that, they were sixteen and seventeen year olds, they didn’t realise just how young they were. 

-

Despite watering his strawberries frequently Derek didn’t pay much attention to the beans, so when Scott asked whether beanstalks should reach the clouds Derek felt like an idiot. 

It was towering and hard to miss, despite its size it seemed harmless enough, until the troll came down it. 

-

“Aren’t we mixing our mythologies here? Trolls don’t live at the top of beanstalks, giants do.” Trust Scott to ask the truly important questions. 

Jackson snorted “I suppose I’m going to be the one who has to kill it then?” 

Natalie piped up from the corner she was sitting in, “stories are wrong about werewolves why not trolls too?” 

It had been an interesting evening for her. She and the group had been hanging out discussing whether there would be wi-fi in heaven when a troll had climbed down the beanstalk. Erica and the boys had turned half furry. Allison hit the troll with numerous arrows while Lydia sat there bored. 

The troll had retreated up the beanstalk again, Allison having shot it enough that it had run. The werewolves had had little impact, each of them being batted away like flies. 

Boyd had sat her down and explained. She felt such a fool, not that there were clues, but still they must have all been laughing at her. While she was freaking out a guy she had never met before had arrived. 

He introduced himself as Stiles and congratulated her on putting up with the others without his awesome for so long. 

-

For a long time they just stared at it, Allison made some calls and Lydia did some research. Stiles had been annoyed when he had first gotten the call, it was Ramadan and he took his Friday prayers much more seriously this time of year. Plus with fasting he was tired and hungry, also a little grumpy. But one look at little Natalie wide eyed he knew it was important he was here. 

Eventually Lydia crowed in triumph, trolls could smell the blood of Christians, with the pack sitting together so close and so Christian it was unsurprising the toll had come down. 

They couldn’t rely on sunlight to kill it, Tolkien you dirty liar. Beanstalks however, when tall enough acted as a portal, all they had to do was cut it down. 

But no Christian could do it, the smell of the blood would call the troll back down. So Stiles stepped in.

-

When Stiles woke up it was to Scott’s worried face, “Dude, what the hell happened?”

“You cut the beanstalk down then fainted, Lydia was freaking out as nothing should have happened to you.” Stiles began to slowly sit up nausea and dizziness hitting him. “I’m taking you home.” Stiles nodded, his dad would have dinner prepared. Others hovered a while making sure he really was okay. They all promised to come check on him over the weekend.

Stiles berated himself, he should know better by now than to do anything too vigorous when fasting but the idea of saving the day had overwhelmed common sense.

“You don’t have to worry Scott, I know what happened.” In the car to his house Stiles explained. He told Scott about Ramadan, about how important his faith is to him. How his mosque was firebombed. When they parked in the drive, and Scott hugged him Stiles couldn’t help but cry. 

His faith was a fundamental part of him and hiding it cost so much. He felt like he was lying to himself, and the world. His fear tainted something that brought him strength, happiness, and peace. To tell someone and have them accept why he hid it, and his faith was a huge relief. It was like he could breathe again, a weight he had never noticed had been lifted off his chest. 

Together they walked into the house, the sheriff grinned like mad when Scott greeted him “assalamu alaikum”, opening up to Scott was the first step for Stiles. His son was finally on the road to recovery and acceptance. Maybe he could finally gain some peace.


End file.
